Dance of an Angel
by heartless16
Summary: She dances like an angel, speaking words through her movements. He uses images to tell a story, depicting emotions where no one else could. How can he tell an angel's story...if he can not understand it? How can she make him understand the dance of an angel?
1. Hard of Hearing

**Title: Dance of an Angel**

Plot: AU High school setting. A story about dance, music and the power of love.

Richard is a normal teenager, trying to adjust to a new town and new school. He lives with his guardian Bruce, a troubled businessman with a shady past.

Aruna, a teen with a passion for music and dance, despite deafness from a childhood accident. She lives with her mother, a young widow trying to escape the shadow of her husband's suicide.

When the two meet, Richard is annoyed by Aruna's calm nonchalance, and by the fact that she can't/won't speak. When he joins the photography club; immediately he decides to create an autobiography on the young woman's dancing, using only pictures.

Aruna is slightly put off by Richard's insistence to document her talents, feeling that his curiosity is nothing but disguised pity. She finds him hard to understand and follow...especially since he talks exceptionally fast. Aruna doesn't want to cooperate with him... he is quite frankly, a nuisance.

As the two begin to understand each other, pieces from the past resurface challenging their friendship. Will Aruna learn the importance of teamwork and accept Richard for who he is? Will Richard learn to look past Aruna's deafness and see her as an equal, and not someone in need of pity?

**Chapter 1: Hard of Hearing**

* * *

Chatter filled the room, the numerous voices ranging from excited and ecstatic to bored and monotone. Many people had gathered in this gym tonight. There were whole families -grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins all sprawled on the massive bleachers of the town stadium. The lights were shining brightly, illuminating the eager and pleasant faces in the crowd.

Voices rose and fell, parents bragging about their children, visitors commenting about the vastly decorated stadium floor, cousins, nieces and nephews bickering about the choices of snacks.

The whole town was alive with action. It was a special event...something that had never been heard of before. The community had finally opened it's gymnastic club center, and tonight was the first exhibition.

For many in the town it was something to be proud of: your child being one of the first to participate in a new athletic program that gushed with undiscovered possibilities. If these children were found to have 'talent' who knows what opportunities lay in store for them? The town would also receive an influx of business and newcomers.

Lights dimmed, judges stepped up to their respective places, and an anxious hush fell over the exuberant crowd. Eyes were trained on the stadium floor as the announcer reiterated the many regulations and introduced the judges. The tension was unbearable.. people sat on pins and needles just waiting for action.

One ten year old boy sat in the box seats, clutching a bag of candy as he stared intently onto the main floor. His bright blue eyes remained mesmerized and captivated by the scene before him as the candy in the bag slowly diminished piece by piece...all disappearing into the childish and no doubt cavity filled mouth.

What was he staring at? What was so intriguing that could hold the boy's attention for so long?

The thirty year old man beside him might have a clue. He was after all, the boy's guardian. It was to be expected that he'd know just what the boy liked and disliked. He knew of his son's obsession for candy...as well as his love of sports.

Today was an unsure day, however, as the young boy didn't know what kind of sport 'gymnastics' was. At the first glance of the program, a look of disgust had entered his eyes, 'why would he want to go and watch a bunch of girls in leotards'?

The middle aged man chuckled to himself when he saw the obvious change in attitude. Of course he would like gymnastics...it was the same kind of acrobatic work done in the circus, the circus being a place his son loved to attend. However, the man didn't expect his adopted son to be _this_ attentive.

It seems that today must be special...no act could have held his attention more than this. Perhaps it was the selection of music, the very inspiring classical pieces. Ah, but his son didn't care for such music. He was more into movie themes. So the last performance had to have been the event that so intrigued and fascinated him.

Whoever had picked this piece as last really wanted to leave a good impression. Nothing tonight was so captivating and so intriguing as that little girl in the sparkling, red leotard, with raven black hair and mischievous eyes. The little girl was fast and slender, being able to run and tumble with the ease of a cheetah.

Lithe hands adorned with glittering red gloves moved in perfect coordination, and her slender tiny feet were always poised. Her red leotard flashed brightly as she began to cartwheel across the floor, feet and arms in the perfect position. The red sparkles on the leotard, the dark swinging ponytail mesmerized the young child with the cotton candy.

Eyes followed feverishly, ears filled with the sound of the awe-inspiring music. The eerie trill of the cello, shrill interjection of the violin, calm and composed accompaniment of the piano, the increasing tempo of the brass instruments, the menacing thump of the timpani.

_One, two, three, four,_

_One, two three four._

The girl-in-red moved with the music, she jumped and fell with the sound of the imposing drums, hair danced and twirled with the brass instruments, the red sparkled in his eyes erratically, flashing then disappearing with the rise and fall of the stringed instruments. On the beams this little girl seemed to hover in the air as she twirled and skipped. It was as if she were a fairy...a fairy adorned in red and scarlet, the darling of everyone's hearts.

T 'was this young, sparkling girl that the blue eyed boy watched earnestly...drawn in by her complicated twists and turned. She was never still, she bounced...she spun...she jumped and she danced.

_Loud and soft,_

_Loud and soft._

The volume of the music grew, and softened, grew and softened in tempo with the young girl's movements. The red sparkles glittered in his vision, blinding then receding, just like the rise and fall of the violins. The brass instruments blared in his ears, filling his heart with awe and wonder. They rose and fell, in time to his excited breath.

_Jump, spin and land, _

_Jump spin and land._

The boy couldn't keep up, he wanted to stare at her more, he wanted to see her dark hair, stare at her pink flushed cheeks and find out what color her eyes were. Maybe they were brown? Perhaps blue? Maybe even the strange gold color of Seline's! Would he get to find out her name? How old was she? She looked so young! How long had she practiced?

_One, two, three, four,_

_One, two three, four._

Questions raged in the boy's mind as he watched intently. His candy was all gone...but it really didn't matter anymore. Vibrant blue eyes stared at the scene before him and his ears were filled with the sound of the fast-playing violins. The music washed over him, captivating and drawing his eyes to center stage.

_Loud and soft,_

_Loud and soft._

He could feel the tightness in his chest, had he forgotten how to breathe? The boy stared intensely as the girl swung back and forth on the uneven bars. The blaring brass section grew louder, increasing in tempo as the girl-in-red spun faster on the bars.

Wasn't she dizzy? How could she spin so fast? He stared as she switched, swinging back from one to the other, her pace seeming to increase with every spin and switch-off. It was overwhelming and he couldn't look away. So captivating was the scene that unfolded rapidly before the young boy. He watched in awe as she released her hands and pushed off the bars, spinning and twisting in the air.

_Twist and turn,_

_Twist and turn._

Everything matched. The epic music, the young girl's swift and accurate movements. How long had she practiced? How could such a young girl be able to accurately perform to such a complicated piece? How did she do it?

Everything was perfect! The way her hair twirled and danced, like the shrill rise and fall of the strings. The way the red shocked and captivated his eyes just like the mesmerizing echo of the trumpets. The way her body twisted and moved, going in time to the deafening beat of the drums.

It was as if she had become the music. The girl's mind, body and soul had become the music, the sound and tempo directed by her fingertips. It flowed in waves, rising as she jumped, falling as she landed. The tempo increased with every blinding twist, it fell with every pause.

_One, two, three four,_

_One, two, three four. _

Red flashed before him, dark hair swung rapidly as she landed and began to back-flip once more...cavorting across the room as if she could fly. Faster and faster she went... louder and louder the music grew, overwhelming his tender ears and stopping his eager breaths.

Suddenly silence. In his eager ears, the sound of the timpani echoed, still following the rigid beat.

_One, two three four,_

_One, two, three, four._

The slow, high-pitched sound of the piano and the shrill drawn out notes of the strings overwhelmed the small boy, goosebumps rose on flushed skin. Blue eyes darted about the room, watching the girl-in-red as she began to twirl, her dark hair and the flashing red leotard blending and meshing together.

Slender arms rose and fell with the music still...resembling a strange spinning top. Now only the piano was left, still calm and composed in spite of it all. High note, then low note, this pattern echoed in the young boy' s ear commanded by the young girl's ascent and descent of pale hands.

Then, to the boy's horror, a long drawn out screech of the violin pierced his ears.

Lights switched on, and the exuberant murmurs of the crowd reached his ears. Confused blue eyes darted about the room, where was the top? Where?

A pair of mysterious hazel eyes met his from across the room. The young boy stared, noting with horror the dark black hair, red sparkling leotard and fancy red gloves.

The top was no longer moving. The show was over.

* * *

Everyday when he woke, the first thing he saw was the white spotless ceiling. Everyday he was plagued with the idea to paint that empty ceiling. Maybe some blue or black with glow-in-the-dark stickers. It sounded childish, but Richard loved childish things.

At their old house in Pennsylvania, his walls were covered with a glow-in-the-dark racetrack. So every night when the lights went out...the races in his room began...such happy memories.

Sitting up in his bed, Richard stretched forward, grasping the photo album from his nightstand. Quickly the teenager flipped the pages, ice blue eyes rapidly scanning the pages. Christmas cards, family photos, school programs; there was too much stuff in this album. Oh, the martial arts tournament! And the dirt bike that Roy let him 'borrow'.

Didn't that thing break?

Where was it? Ah, the last page. Richard slid the program out from the sheet protector and opened it.

Why was he always remembering that night? Why couldn't he forget the rapid music, the taste of cotton candy and the flashes of red?

Slender, callused hands gently brushed the worn old program, in his mind recalling the breath-taking music. Those mischievous hazel eyes entered his dream more often than not.

How many times had he begged Bruce to take him back to the gymnastic competitions? She was never there. He looked. Even the club manager could not find anyone in the records. It was as if the girl didn't exist.

As if she were a dream.

**Knock. Knock.**

"Dick. You awake? I have some time before work. I can take you to school since it's your first day. Or would you like to catch the bus? Either way, hurry and get ready."

Richard stared at the door. Bruce had some time today...maybe they could stop by Micky D's and get some breakfast. A Pop Tart and orange juice just didn't have the appeal it did when he was growing up.

A sausage McMuffin and coffee would really give this day a good start. The teenager scrambled from his bed and began sifting through his drawers, trying to find a clean pair of clothes. He frowned. The laundry hadn't been done. Dammit, why couldn't he have just washed the stuff when Bruce told him to?

So there really was a truth in the saying 'to be forewarned is to be fore-armed.' It was such a cool saying...but at the time when Bruce told him about it, laundry was the last thing on his mind. Maybe it was during finals last year? Yea, that was it. He stayed up all night studying for those exams.

Of course his hard work paid off...but in return he had caught the flu and was forced to stay inside for the first few days of winter vacation (the year it snowed so much and everyone in the neighborhood went sledding...everyone but him. ) Richard smiled at the memory as he stepped into the shower and began to clean himself off.

Going to a new school. There was a time when those words put fear into his heart. Over the years it seemed to have lost it's potency. He knew it wasn't Bruce's fault. He understood that his job required him to move around a lot. Nowadays, it seemed that Bruce no longer needed to travel so much for work.

So they decided to move from their Pennsylvania home and come down here, to this sunny beach side town. It had such strange name too. Jump City. As weird as the name was, Richard decided that he liked the small city.

It wasn't noisy like Chicago or New York and it definitely wasn't as dangerous as Gotham City, where Seline still lived. He could walk to the beach when he wanted and they were only a few hours from Universal Studios.

Yea, there wasn't really a down side to this small city yet.

**oOoOo**

The hallways were slowly filling with people as Richard entered the tall brick building. His eyes roamed the large walk-way, taking in the lockers, bulletin boards covered with school memos and school posters, the always present trophy case.

The school was very typical, Richard mused as he stopped to look at some of the schools's achievements. Baseball awards, football championships, photos of students who won basketball scholarships, more typical school paraphernalia.

What about art? What about music awards, painting awards or even dance? Well, there was one. Richard peered closer, eyes landing on the small certificate. First place in interpretive dance, huh. The teenager stared at the name.

Aruna Kapoor.

Such a unique name.

Richard shook his head as he shuffled down the hall, taking note of the homeroom class to which he had been assigned. The last room on the left. The teenager bit his lip and took a few nervous steps into the room, hoping to find a vacant seat somewhere in the back.

Vibrant blue eyes scanned the room, taking note of the groups of students milling around the desks, and the vibrant noisy atmosphere. Richard entered the room, made a bee line for the rear seat by the window, sat down calmly and peered out the window.

The view was nice from this side of the building. Somehow, Richard had the impression that the side of the school was as run down as the old brick walls suggested. The window looked out across the well manicured school lawn and pristine base ball field.

"Class settle down!" The light airy voice of the teacher drifted across the room, shattering Richard's contemplative mood.

He stared at the young woman behind the desk, noting her cheerful but serious smile. This teacher was the 'no nonsense' type. And judging from the way everyone quickly moved to a seat, the other students felt the same.

"Is Richard Grayson here?" The teacher asked, her light brown eyes roaming the class room.

The teenager raised his hand reluctantly, so much for blending in. His ice blue eye stared apprehensively, as the teacher stepped forward to his desk and placed several papers.

"This is your class schedule this semester. If there is any class you wish to add or remove, come by before or after home room. These are some forms for your parents or guardian to fill out. Jackson Hyde?"

Richard turned, and stared at the dark skinned teen who nonchalantly raised his hand. Such a serious look, Richard thought as their eyes met. The man looked really buff, with jet black dreadlocks and steely dark brown eyes.

"His schedule is the same as yours, so he will be showing you around until you get your bearings." The teacher strode back to her desk, high heels clicking professionally across the linoleum floor. "To those who have not made my acquaintance yet, my name is Mrs Keegan. It is my hope that this homeroom will have a wonderful year together."

Richard zoned out as he listened to Mrs Keegan speak about homeroom activities and fundraisers. A quiet sigh escaped his lips as he glanced back out the window. Why was this school so...typical? Weren't private schools supposed to be different? Other than the uniform, everything was the same.

Ice blue eyes grimaced as he stared down at his light brown slacks, ironed button down shirt and dark black blazer. Gosh, he even had to wear a tie! Richard pulled at the red-white striped tie, a look of despair on his face.

**SLAM**

Richard flinched as the door flew open and a young girl rushed in and darted to an empty seat in the front row. He stared in exasperation at her sloppy ponytail, rumpled blouse and skirt. Someone missed the alarm clock.

And why sit in the front row where everyone could see? Wasn't the teacher going to say anything? Richard chewed his lip, noting with curiosity the bright red converse. Was converse allowed at this school? Everyone only had dressy looking shoes here. The teen stared down at his dark black oxford shoes.

What he'd give for a pair of converse right now...A loud sigh escaped the boy's lips as the bell cut across his thoughts. Richard stood, throwing his backpack across his shoulders and scrutinizing his schedule.

First period-Trigonometry. And it was still eight in the morning. The teenager ambled slowly out the classroom, noting with curiosity that the girl who was late still sat in her chair, hunched over a small notebook and scribbling furiously.

Didn't she hear the bell?

**oOoOo**

Photography.

It was Richard's dream, and now he'd be able to showcase his skills. The last school he'd been at didn't have such clubs. Something about not enough 'funds'. Of course, there was always plenty of money to go around once football season started. The teen rolled his eyes.

Now if he could only find the classroom...

Ice blue eyes stared in confusion as the young man walked down the hallways. Why didn't he ask Jackson Hyde? Oh, right. Jackson was on the soccer team. And they had practice right after school. Richard sighed for the umpteenth time since school started. If he could only find this room, then it would be straight home and into bed.

Richard rounded the corner, his black shoes clicking down the tiled floor. He hated the way his shoes sounded on the floor. The well timed click as his heels connected against the shining linoleum. Crisp and professional. Like a businessman.

The very thing he despised.

The teen slowed his gait, now shuffling lazily down the halls. Somehow, it still didn't sound right. The slide was too loud, too crisp. The sound couldn't compare to his black high-top converse. Really, why was he even bothering with this?

An irritated sigh escaped the boy's lips as he rounded yet another corner. A muffled curse slipped from his mouth. Just how big was this building? How long would it take until he found the photography room? Or at least the end of the corridor? Would it be best to turn back now? At least now that he still knew how many turns he'd taken?

Richard stopped in the middle of the hallway, eyes staring at his watch. If he left now, he could still catch the bus before it left. He took a deep breath, shifting his dark blue book-bag and adjusting the straps. It would be best to call it quits, at least for today. Besides, add-drop ended on Friday. He still had a few more days to decide...and to find the dammed room.

Ice blue eyes slowly glanced back up, only to watch as a blur of white and red crashed into him.

Richard fell to the floor, blinking with astonishment as a bevy of papers floated down to the white linoleum floor. He cocked his head slightly, staring at the girl before him. She was the one who was late to homeroom. Why was she always rushing?

The teen scrambled to his knees, picked up the papers resting around him and tried to neatly stack them up. Maybe she would know where the photography room was?

"Um, you wouldn't happen to know where the photography club meets, would you?" Richard questioned, a slight hesitance in tone. He held out the now neat stack of papers towards the girl, waiting for an answer.

Silence greeted him.

The young man bit his lip and smiled sheepishly as the girl finally looked at him, a look of apology in her oddly familiar hazel eyes. "Do you know where the photography club meets?"

The girl took the papers from his hands, slid them into a forest green tote bag and smiled brightly. Her eyebrow rose slightly, and her lips scrunched thoughtfully, almost as if asking him to repeat his question.

Richard resisted the urge to sigh in annoyance. Was she hard of hearing or something? "The photography club. Where do they meet?" He spoke slower this time, hoping she'd know and help him out.

The young woman nodded quickly and pulled him to his feet. She spun him around, placed her slender hands on his wrists and lifted his left hand, then right and left again. The teenager stepped infront of him and held up three fingers, two fingers and then one finger.

Richard blinked. "So, left, right, left and it's room 321?" The teen hoped the young girl couldn't see the look of exasperation on his face...or the irritation in his eyes. Why couldn't she just say where the room was? What was up with all the gestures?

The girl nodded after a pause, hazel eyes twinkling oddly. Was that laughter in her eyes? Amusement? Or was it a look of lofty pride? The eyes of one filled with disdainful pride?

Richard really couldn't place it, that look. He continued watching her intently, eyeing the blue scuffed iPod nano she slid into her pocket and the black ear-buds she placed into her ears. Richard stared as she sauntered away, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Why was she wearing track pants under her skirt?

"Um, thanks!" The young man called out, only half expecting a reply. Richard shook his head in defeat. Talking to her was hopeless. If the girl really was hard of hearing...with ear-buds in, she'd be deaf.

* * *

**What do you think of the first scene? I wrote it while listening to "Time" one of the soundtrack pieces in Inception. You really must listen to it...and tell me if I gave it justice.**

**Well, what do you think? At least for a first chapter? I've never written a high-school story before...so please feel free to correct my inadequacies. Also, I seem to be modeling this private school like the ones overseas ('cause I can't get enough of Japanese dramas...) If such schools don't exist here, please disregard it.**

**Review!**

**~heartless16**


	2. Revelations

**This chapter shouldn't have taken so long...but life got in the way. The song Aruna is dancing to is Chopin Etude 3 Op. 10 no. 3 "Tristesse". (Richard came in towards the end) It was hard trying to imagine a dance for such a song...it came out like a play of sorts. The melody always seemed sorrowful to me...look it up and tell me what you think.**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 2: Revelations**

* * *

Bread.

It was the smell of cooking bread that roused the teenager from her bed. Hazel eyes blinked several times, filtering the sunlight as it streamed through the openings in the blinds. Why did she sleep so close to the window?

Yawning tiredly, Aruna stood and made her way towards the bathroom, trying to avoid the piles of books and shoes from the night before. The room hadn't been cleaned in a while…didn't she go to school late the other day because she couldn't find her Trig homework?

Yes…today would be cleaning day. She'd clear out all her things, put the shoes back in the closet, stack the papers neatly and make sure her desk would be empty of nothing but school work. Aruna's eyes narrowed as she slipped into the shower, where did she get that bruise on her arm? This might complicate things. Wasn't there some exhibition or other at the theater? And the performance was in two days? Would the bruise be gone by then?

Ahh…and she'd promised Mr. Ryuu that she wouldn't dance anymore till the performance! How would she explain it? A wry smile pulled at her lips. He probably wouldn't even believe her if she told the truth. Brushing back the water from her eyelids, the teenager turned off the water and stepped out from the shower, hands swiftly wrapping the dark blue towel around her slender body.

A huff of contemplation escaped the girl's lips as she dashed from the bathroom, and began to rifle through her drawer, searching for the skirt she washed Friday night. Why was her uniform in three different places? The white shirt was in the closet, the blazer was hanging by the door…shouldn't her skirt have been in the closet too?  
Pulling on the skirt and a pair of black knee high socks, Aruna darted to the full length mirror, what would she do to her hair? The teenager stared at the dresser, eyeing the brush and comb apprehensively. It probably wasn't a good idea to use those right now…especially since her hair was bone dry.

Perhaps a loose braid…or maybe another messy bun? Wrinkling her nose, Aruna swept her hair to the side, plaiting the dark tresses with impressive speed. Quickly securing the end, she picked up her messenger bag, snagged her blazer from the doorknob and darted down the stairs. Nothing was missing; her homework was in the bag…she'd checked twice last night.

A smile pulled at the teen's lips as she sat at the table and inhaled the delicious scent of parathas. Aruna selected two pieces of the flat bread and began to rummage in the fridge for any leftover chutney. Turning, the girl's hazel eyes widened when her mother entered the kitchen, clad in dark purple scrubs. Pursing her lips, the teenager raised an eyebrow, hands moving rapidly. "You have a shift today?"

The older woman nodded as she set down the coffee mug. "I might come home late. Can you fend for yourself? Or should I call uncle Suresh?" Tentatively, the woman sat at the table absently selecting a paratha and eating with measured bites.

'The bottle of chutney must have hit the counter a little too hard', Aruna mused, as she watched her mother flinch, eyes now filling with an irritable light. Pursing her lips, the high school teen resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Why did she always feel the need to bring up Uncle Suresh? Especially after everything he'd done?

"Really Aruna, there's no need to break any glass. I won't call him, if you don't want me too." Standing the woman set down some money and picked up her bag, eyes tinted with worry. "For dinner…and not too many friends over either. I don't have enough money to host a party."

Aruna nodded, scrunching her lips as her mother planted a kiss on her forehead, picked up the keys and darted through the garage door. Sighing, the teenager began to tidy the kitchen…the bus wouldn't be here for another ten minutes anyway.

**oOoOo**

Hazel eyes glossed absently over the plethora of trigonometry problems assigned for homework. How long would this homework take? It didn't seem hard…but what about dance practice?

Aruna pursed her lips as she ambled down the hallway, wondering vaguely how the afternoon bell sounded in the crowded hallway. Perhaps a piercing shriek? What about a monotone wail? A breathy chuckle escaped the teen's pursed mouth…what was she doing, thinking about shrieks and wails? Such words no longer had any meaning.

Forcing back the rising scream of irritation, Aruna slipped silently into the small library, making a beeline for the desk by the window. Hazel eyes scanned the room, memorizing the new books resting on the shelves. A smile spread across her face when she spotted her best friend, curled up in the sofa chair by the window.  
Quickly walking over, Aruna set down the two medium sized cups of hot chocolate on the old mahogany-looking table, dropped her book bag on the thinly carpeted floor and ran into her friend's outstretched arms. "I haven't seen you in…forever! How was the summer? What happened with Philip?"

"Calm down!" The amber haired teenager signed, laughing quietly. The young woman sat forward a peaceful look etched onto her features. "Summer was typical….although I did get a job at that boutique on James Street. As for Philip?" The teen paused, taking a sip of hot chocolate. "We decided to part ways."

Aruna's eyes widened. "Why? Was it because of college?"

"Somewhat. By the time I get in to college… he'd be doing other things. He might even leave the state. I didn't want to tie him down… and I don't want to give up my whole life so soon. Maybe our paths will cross again…and maybe not. But at least we parted friends."

Aruna's hazel eyes flickered with conflicted emotions. To love and let go…to cherish and yet give away. It made no sense. Obviously Anastasia was hurt about such a decision...at least she wasn't forced into it. A reassuring smile flitted across the teen' lips, "I think that you'll see Phil again. It's destiny."

A laugh escaped Anastasia's fuchsia colored lips. "You and destiny. You're only fifteen, what do you know about destiny! Except maybe that this Trig homework won't do itself." Swiftly, the young woman took another sip of the hot beverage, batting her hand frantically as the drink scalded her tongue. "Ah, when are you dancing next? I want to buy tickets for my family."

Aruna pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Maybe next week? The school paper wants pictures but everyone seems to be booked. You're with the school newspaper, can't you find out?"

Anastasia pointed across the room, her finger landing on a lanky teen with an armful of books. A smirk danced across her face as the boy stumbled awkwardly, nearly dropping the load of books onto a small mahogany colored desk. His jet black hair was extremely disheveled, quite the contrast to his crisply ironed uniform. "See him; he's new to the photography club. I think they'll assign him to your show…but as the 'new kid' maybe they're being cautious."

Aruna's hazel eyes widened. "I've met him…well ran into him. Is he always so…clumsy? He was shuffling through the halls the day I crashed into him. Is he as quiet as he looks? Somehow, he seems the arrogant type."

Anastasia arched an eyebrow. "All this from running into the guy? You're always running late to something aren't you? But he is rather quiet…like the cute nerdy type. But definitely not arrogant…what gave you that idea?"

Aruna pursed her lips. "I didn't like the way he looked at me…like I was some idiot."

* * *

Richard bit his lip nervously as he stood in front of the doors to the gymnasium. Quietly, the young man pushed open the door and entered, wondering why the room was so dim. The sound of music filled the air, the gentle thrum of a piano vibrating in his eardrums. Did people usually practice with the music so loud? And why did it sound so familiar?

Turning, Richard eyes fell upon the theater-like stage set against the wall. He watched in awe as the girl skipped and twirled upon the stage, keeping in tune with the energetically tone of the music. Her hands moved up and down animatedly, and her feet were poised and graceful.

Somehow, Richard was reminded leaves…tumbling and twisting as the floated to the earth. Ice blue eyes widened in awe as she performed a flawless backflip, landing soundlessly on the wooden floor…was that even possible?

And then the music changed.

The fast animated tune gave way to a sad melody. And Richard watched with wonder as the girl seemed to float, a sort of sorrowfulness to her step. She seemed so in tune with the music… as if the climatic notes of the piano were guiding her.

A gasp left his lips as she dived from the balcony, the high chords of the piano echoing in his ears. Back arched gracefully, arms and legs unnaturally stiff, the teen twirled through the air, drifting to the ground like a fallen angel.

The music seemed to float, guiding her as she descended slowly to the stage floor, body poised in a perfect arch with hazel eyes staring out aimlessly across the stage floor blank and empty, as if staring into the face of death. The last delicate sounds of the piano drifted across the room, peacefully receding as the teen's stiff body touched the ground, hazel eyes staring out across the empty room…glittering with tears.

The whole scene was…moving.

Light flooded the gymnasium, and it was only then that the teenager noticed the nearly invisible ropes suspended from the ceiling, wrapping around the girl's waist. Swiftly, the young man turned at the sound of footsteps, his ice blue eyes falling on a taller man with strange colored eyes. Were they contacts?

The tall strange brushed passed him, without a single acknowledgement, the strange scent of leather and parchment filling Richard's nostrils. What is it with these people? Not even a single 'hello, how may I help you'? Ice blue eyes narrowed, eyeing the man as he knelt and began to remove the invisible ropes fastened to the girl's slender frame. Could she not remove them on her own? And why hadn't she moved since?

Clearing his throat loudly, the teen stepped forward and tapped the man lightly on the shoulder, jumping back in nervousness at the man's sudden turn.

"How may I help you?" The man questioned, his strange colored eyes filling with calculating inquisition. Even his accent was as odd as his eyes; the musical lilt to his voice seemed almost mesmerizing.

"Uh-uh ...um." Richard coughed, trying to quell his fluttering heart. "I'm from the photography club. They want me to do a spread for the performance." An awkward smile played at the teen's lips. What was with the amusement in the man's eyes? What was so funny?

"So you are." The man intoned, his eyes taking on a frightening stare. "And you need pictures, now?"

Richard coughed again. "Ah…well, I-I wanted to do an article about the show, and thought I could take some behind-the-scene shots of Aruna before the recital. I figured she wouldn't have any time next week."

"So you did." The man smiled, displaying a set of perfectly-shaped pearly white teeth. "Come." And with that, the man turned and strode away; hands clasped regally behind him like a stern general.

Somehow, that perfection was scary. Why did his teeth seem …dangerously sharp and canine like? Richard swallowed. Was this man really the dance instructor? Why was he so creepy? Ice blue eyes darted around as the teen took in the gymnasium, finally settling on the set of gymnastic equipment in another corner. Balking, he did a double take. There, comfortably seated parallel atop the balance beam was Aruna Kapoor… cellphone in hand and a very bored look in her eyes. How could she do it? Wasn't hard to balance on such a small space?

Richard pursed his lips as he watched the man lift the teenager from the beam and stood her on shaking limbs. Confusion flitted across his face when the girl turned towards him, leaning into the man's arms. What was she doing?

The room was uncomfortably silent, and Richard could swear a clock was ticking somewhere in the massive gymnasium. Even his heartbeat seemed excessively loud. The boy took a deep breath, closing his eyes tightly and letting the silence wash over his mind. Why wasn't anyone talking? Shouldn't the dance instructor be going over the performance…out loud?

Richard opened his eyes and jumped back in shock when Aruna whirled around abruptly, a visage of confusion etched across her brows. She stepped around the beam and approached him, her feet moving noiselessly on the padded floor. How does someone walk so silently?

Blinking, he couldn't help but stare blankly as the girl held out a hand, her head tilted in anticipation. Timidly, he reached out and grasped her thin fingers; were dancer's hands supposed to be this soft? An awkward smile graced his lips. "Um, I'm Richard. We bumped into each other in the hallway?" Nervously, Richard's other hand tangled themselves into his already messy tresses.

Aruna grinned and nodded, pointing to his camera with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh! Ah, I found the photography club…thanks to you. Um, I was assigned to take some photos of the performance; I just wanted to stop by and maybe get some test shots?" Richard asked as he fiddled with the buttons on the camera.

Aruna blinked twice, hazel eyes filled with bewilderment.

Was it odd that he could understand her silent inquisition? Perhaps the furrowed brows were a give-away? Or was it the unique quirk of her lips? Richard repeated his question slowly, sighing inwardly with relief as she nodded and moved back to the stage, snapping her slender fingers with impatience.

Holding up his camera, Richard focused the lens on the teenager's calm and unmoving stance, taking a picture of her stoic face. As the music began to fill the room, Richard concentrated once more determined to capture every movement of Aruna's choreography.

Would his pictures show her emotions as well?

**oOoOo**

California was supposed to be a warm place, or so Richard thought as he buried his hands deeper inside his jeans pockets. Was it the wind? Or did the sun decide to go on vacation? Rolling his eyes and the strange line of thought, the teenager entered a small pizza parlor and made a beeline for the corner booth. He needed some silence in order to arrange these photos well. Richard never did care much for the nosy restaurant types.

Stifling a persistent yawn, the teen looked across the mostly empty diner, noticing that many people were on laptops, taking advantage of the ever present Wi-Fi hub. He couldn't blame them…though he would rather use the one ion the public library. It was much quieter. Richard inhaled quietly and stared at the photos on the table. Maybe it wasn't the Wi-Fi but the smell that drew people here. He'd have to try out a slice of pizza before leaving.

"Richard Grayson?"

The teen turned sharply at the sound of his name, ice blue eyes landing on a tall young woman with striking green eyes and a plate of pepperoni pizza. Wasn't that the girl who sat beside him in Trig? "Anastasia, right?" Her bubbly personality often seemed out of place in a first period math class. How can someone be so alive and animated at such an ungodly hour of the morning? Did she come here to see the pictures? The teen couldn't help but eye her curiously as she sat down across from him, seemingly interested in the photos he'd spread on the table.

"Fancy seeing you here! Don't mind me…I didn't want to sit alone in some corner." A breathy chuckle escaped the girl's lips and she pushed her plate over to him. "Want one? Compensation for disturbing the peace."

Richard smiled,somewhat awed by her European accent. "I'm trying to decide which pictures should go in the newspaper. Maybe you can help?" Slowly the teen slid the file of photographs across the table watched with interest as she scanned through them, a look of awe lighting up her green eyes. Anastasia had always been an intriguing person…even now; Richard couldn't help watching the emotions as they danced across her face.

"Ah! There she is!" Anastasia exclaimed looking towards the entrance suddenly.

Richard turned, staring across the room in confusion and his eyes widened. Aruna was here too? He sat in silence for a few moments...should he get her attention or stand up and meet her? She was hard of hearing after all.

"Don't bother yelling, she can't hear you." The young woman spoke with a finality that seemed odd to him. Frowning, Richard turned to face his classmate with a question on his lips. Glancing back across the crowded restaurant, he saw Aruna walk towards them with a curious rhythm to her steps. Turning back once more, Richard met Anastasia's eyes expectantly and quirked a brow.

"Didn't you know?" Anastasia took another bite of her pepperoni pizza before nonchalantly replying, "She's deaf."

* * *

**How was it? Any ideas for the next chapter?**

**Review please! :)**

**~heartless16**


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